


My Wings Will Carry Me

by MarvelousAndProud



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Reichenbach Falls, Reichenbach Feels, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelousAndProud/pseuds/MarvelousAndProud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock "wing"fic. Reichenbach Fall</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Wings Will Carry Me

My Wings Will Carry Me 

My name is Sherlock Holmes and I am an angel. Well not really; the wings that adorn my back are far more strikingly beautiful than those of any of God’s winged beings. Or they would be if would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy. For months I’ve dreamt of flying during the waking hours of the day. Though at night I dream of falling. Of my wings failing me as I spiral down into oblivion and it feels as if those nightmares could swallow me whole. John looks at me everyday with eyes burdened with pity. He sees the dullness in my unfocused eyes, the trembling of my hands and the gaunt features on my forlorn face. He can’t see my wings. He can’t see the brilliant white feathers that cascade down my back or the breath taking way they move as I do. All he sees is an addict who doesn't want to be saved. Why do I even need saving? My wings will carry me.

My silvery white feathers rustle in the light breeze as I stand at the edge of the roof of St. Bart’s. I have been given two options by the man who now lay dead on the ground, a crimson puddle of blood pooling from the hole in his head. _Let those who I hold most dear take the consequences for my mistakes or step of the edge complete the game with my death._ Either way someone will die in the end. What Jim Moriarty failed to take into account was that I had devised a third option. It wasn’t perfect. I can only save one but he is the one who matters most. John. John who has never lost faith in me, even when I lost faith in myself. I could save him and not die in the process. John tried to reason with me on the phone. I reassured him that it would be ok. After all I had made the calculations in my head, the needed trajectory and speed to fly to John and get him out of the way of the path of the bullet from the hidden sniper. He said I was delusional. That it was the drugs talking. _That I couldn't fly._ He was blind then. I could feel the wind course through my wings just as clearly as I can feel the narcotics course through my veins.

My final words to John were ones of farewell before I hung up and John called out my name i distress. I drop the phone over the edge and watched it splintered into pieces on the ground below. My life too would splinter to pieces if I lost John. He is the centre of my world. The stars the lighten my darkest nights. When my addiction threatens to asphyxiate me with darkness, he is there to guide me back. _John Watson is my conductor of light._ I spread out my arms and my wings with them. I am transendescent as I fall forward and my wings unfurl completely. I close my eyes as I fall. _Wait. This isn’t right. My wings. Why are they not catching the wind. Why am I still falling?_ My eyes flash open and I flail as I hurl towards the ground. The last thing I see is the look of sheer horror on John’s face before I realize my wings were not failing me because they were never there. They were a figment of my delusions. A fabrication of my substance addled mind. An inventive lie I spun out of darkness with trembling fingers. I closed my eyes before I struck the ground, never to see the light or my conductor of it again.


End file.
